A Dream of Magic: Blackstar Guardians, #1

By Megan Smith

 

Blackstar Guardians…
Warriors chosen for their inherent protectiveness and deeply held honor, they are men and women who willingly fight the darkness to safeguard those they love…

 

A woman looking for clues to the past...

Aisley Montclair was on a mission to save her father from a baffling illness. Her journey took her to the east, into a land far different than anything she'd ever known, where she found an enemy, questions about who she really was…and the man who had haunted every night of her life. She had never believed the man in her dreams was actually real and yet…there he was. Handsome and charming, he was an enigma determined to claim her as his.

 

And a man more than he seems...

Cadrian Ethanael had waited eons for his Seraphin-the woman who held a piece of his soul within her own. He knew her for what she was the moment he started seeing her within his dreams and when she stumbled through his gates and into his arms, knew that he would do anything to keep her there. Leader of a band of warriors who had spent eternities protecting the world from evil, he never hesitated in giving his aid to safeguard her from harm and help find the answers she desperately needed.

Answers that will change everything for her….

 

A clean, light paranormal romance with humor, heart, and a swirl of magic.

See how it all began-pick up your copy today!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Smith
• Release date: Oct 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393008880

Book preview

Chapter 1

"I ’m afraid I can’t interpret the symbols...looks like ancient Anconian... You really need an expert on ancient languages. What you should do is get in touch with someone at Ethanael. Besides the main museum, there’s a smaller, private collection devoted to Anconian artifacts-you might find something there to help you, if you could convince someone to let you in to see it..."

Fingers tapped with frustration on the steering wheel as Edwin Montrose’s words echoed in Aisley Montclair’s head. Slowing at a stop sign, she glanced at the passenger seat where her small datapad lay, displaying an image of her father’s leather wristband. Picking it up, she studied the strange black symbols embossed on its surface, frowning in frustration when their meaning continued to elude her.

Flowing and elegant, they looked like nothing she’d ever seen before. Nor anyone else, apparently.

She’d started in the west, taking the image to enumerable ‘experts’, from professors to linguists to museum curators, and gotten a different response about what they could mean each time. After finally running out of leads, she’d had her mother use her contacts to get permission to cross the barrier and continue her search in the still-mysterious east, where she’d been for the last few months with, unfortunately, similar results.

The latest expert had been Dr. Montrose, a white-haired gentleman with an old-world manner who dealt in ‘magical’ artifacts and antiques. She’d been sent to him by a history professor she’d met a few weeks before and had been her latest hope for finding some answers. Instead, after waiting two weeks for him to get back to the country, he’d given her little more than an apologetic shrug and a new direction to look.

She had a new name at least. Cadrian Ethanael.

A car honked impatiently from behind and she moved her foot off the brake to accelerate again while flicking a glance in the rear view mirror at the black sedan on her tail.

She’d never heard of Cadrian Ethanael before-which was odd when a quick bit of research revealed him to be the owner of a family company that spanned the globe and had its fingers in absolutely everything. She could understand not recognizing him if he’d been based solely in the east, but she’d discovered he had just as much of a presence in the west.

The Ethanael’s were the epitome of quiet, old wealth-deliberately keeping out of the limelight while steadily increasing their holdings. While estimates varied on their worth, they were always listed as one of the wealthiest families in the world.

The odd thing was, there were no photographs of them anywhere. She’d found written accounts of them occasionally attending a party, a gallery opening-even an evening with one of the royal families-but not a single image of any of them.  By all written accounts they were attractive, talented, and enormously rich, but lived curiously under the radar.

Something that should be next to impossible in this day and age.  If nothing else, there should be amateur, accidental video of them caught on someone’s phone.  But there was nothing.

She’d found more than a few western articles joking that they were cursed or had made deal with the devil that prevented them from having a reflection.

That wasn’t enough to keep her away, but it did make her wonder how they managed to keep themselves that private.

She also didn’t care if Cadrian Ethanael was the devil himself as long as she had a chance to search through his private collection for any hint of the answers she desperately needed.

She’d quickly learned that getting an opportunity to view the collection-and hopefully talk with any experts who oversaw it-was almost impossible. Requests for appointments, viewings, or even just someone to answer some basic questions had gotten her nowhere. She’d finally decided to take a different approach and sneak her way in when the last distracted employee she’d talked to had mumbled something about only employees were allowed to see the artifacts not on display.

Having left her job as head chef at a high-end resort on the west coast of the island of Morvanne months before, she knew she would have no problem landing the sous chef position she’d spotted advertised for the Ethanael museum’s five-star restaurant in Calladoneia’s capital city, Ravenna.

All she had to do was get an employee badge and then, hopefully, talk her way into the secondary museum that historians like Dr. Montrose knew about but had never seen. She’d talked to enough historians over the last year to know that each one was passionate about their field so she was betting that the curators of Ethanael’s private collection would be the same-and would be anxious to show it off.

A frown gathered on her face when a glance in the rearview mirror showed the same sedan following her on the winding, mountain road and when a small, roadside gas station appeared on the next bend, she impulsively pulled over. The sedan shot past her, continuing down the road with an impatient roar and she breathed out a sigh of relief before easing back onto the road.

She’d been feeling edgy since leaving Dr. Montrose, all because of an encounter with two men who had done absolutely nothing to her, but had made the hair on the back of her neck rise all the same.

During the weeks she’d waited for him to show up for their appointment, she’d made the local rounds of any place that might help her, from regional museums to shops dealing in crystal healing.

It was at a gallery showing that she’d seen the men for the first time. She’d been studying a tapestry that had mild similarities to the designs embossed on her father’s band when an elegant, gray-haired man had slid up next to her nursing a crystal glass of amber liquid.

She’d thought nothing of it when he’d casually struck up a conversation about the tapestry and she’d answered politely even though, while she couldn’t put her finger on it, she’d been distinctly uncomfortable around him.

She learned early that she had a sixth sense for discerning the character of a person-if they were trustworthy or not, telling the truth or lying, a happy soul or one corrupted and dark. She’d never questioned how she knew, but she’d never been wrong before and had learned to trust her instincts. So, when her inner awareness raised a silent alarm, she’d made sure she’d stayed in a crowded area and had looked for a polite way to edge away from him.

His questions, while posed lightly, had gotten increasingly more personal until she’d finally made her excuses more abruptly than she normally would and slipped away-only to notice him watching her while standing next to another man who looked like a younger version of himself.

Odd as the encounter had been, she’d attempted to brush it off and wouldn’t have given it another thought except she saw him at her hotel that night and the younger man had been loitering outside of Montrose’s antiquities shop the day after.

Disturbed by the continued glimpses of the men-even though logic insisted it was all just coincidence-she’d decided to take a roundabout route to Ravenna instead of the faster, direct one she’d originally intended.

That had been six days ago and she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being followed. Continued glimpses of a black car always somewhere behind her on the road didn’t soothe her fears any either. Although she knew it had to be an overactive imagination at work, she could swear she'd seen the older man behind the wheel.

Turning off onto the forested road that would wind its way up into the beginning of the Araphan mountains and bring her to the Calladoneia border, she deliberately turned the volume up on the radio in an effort to dissipate the tension creating knots in her stomach.

Smaller side roads broke off from the main one and she knew that most of them led to mammoth cabins, hunting lodges and lake houses tucked away in the trees. A fleeting glimpse of one or two of them had made her eyebrows raise appreciatively before twilight set in, quickly obscuring everything but her headlights on the road and flashes of shadowed trees looming on the roadside.

She’d slept in late that morning, intending to put the car on auto-drive since she knew there was little chance of finding a place to stay the night in the mountain pass but, as tense as she was currently feeling, she was tempted to pull over and start again in the late summer sunshine if she came across a decent looking motel.

No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than the car started shuddering violently and rolled to a slow stop, the engine abruptly dying. A brief, startled laugh escaped as she stared dumbfounded at the dark dashboard before shaking her head and swiping her finger over the ignition pad.

Nothing happened.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

She gave the ignition another hard wipe while reaching over to search a bag with her free hand for the keys. Closing her fingers over them, she impatiently brushed the overhead light to identify the correct one-a thin, metal keycard strip attached to a traditional curved bow at the top. Shoving it into the starter pad slot on the dashboard, she waited hopefully but got nothing but silence.

Come on! Start! You have gas-I even ran you through the carwash. There is no reason why you shouldn’t be working she chided but finally tossed the keys back on the passenger seat when it became apparent that there actually was something wrong with the car. Growling under breath, she pulled out her phone and pressed her finger to the screen...only to find it was dead as well.

When the front lights flickered and began to dim, she grimaced but accepted that she had two choices: she could sleep in the car until daylight when hopefully some good Samaritan would drive by or she could get out and find help in one of the houses nearby.

Not liking either choice, she grabbed the vintage floral print backpack she kept with her at all times and fished out a tiny flashlight she’d picked up during her childhood travels before climbing out of the car.

Silence pressed in around her as she stood by the driver’s side and flashed the light around. The opposite side of the car revealed a paved side road disappearing back in the trees-and the faintest hint of light among them. Hoping it was an inhabited house, she hiked one thin strap of the backpack over her shoulder and stepped onto the road.

A sudden snap startled her badly and she spun around, the light jerking back and forth. She didn’t see anything, but that watched feeling was creeping over her spine again and she stepped backward while trying to calm her racing heart.

Nothing there, Ais. It’s the woods on a mountain. It’s probably nothing more than an animal. Like a...a squirrel. Right. A small, harmless squirrel she murmured, attempting to reassure herself, which, you can defend yourself against.

Flexing her hand as a reminder that she had her power to use against anything that moved against her, she swept the trees one last time with the flashlight before turning and hurrying toward the tiny pinprick of light she prayed was a nice, safe house full of friendly, normal people.

"Aisley...."

An eerie voice whispered out of the darkness just as something brushed her head and she gave a startled scream, her hand thrusting out to send a surge of power outward before her feet picked up into a run. She heard a dull thud and an angry growl behind her but didn’t stop to see what she’d sent flying backward with her mental push.

Branches seemed to reach out and snap along her arms, tangling and ripping her clothing, but she kept going. She wasn’t sure if the voice was her own over-active imagination or not, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

Something brushed against her hair, yanking painfully at her scalp and she cried out, trying to find the mental focus she needed to push whatever was attacking her away but unable to think through the fear pounding in her head.

Her body suddenly slammed into something hard, dislodging whatever had a hold of her hair and she gasped while pain vibrated through her body. Realizing she’d run into a large metal gate, she looked through it to see a huge cabin flooded with welcoming light just a bit further up the drive.

Help! Please!

She gave the gate a hard shake before a low hiss behind had her twisting around, her hand flying up in defense. She thought she caught a glimpse of something moving through the trees before she suddenly found herself tumbling backward, the gate abruptly flying open.

Chapter 2

With a startled yelp , she stumbled backward, strong arms catching her before she fell and lifting her effortlessly back to her feet. Grateful they’d opened the gate, she looked up with thanks on her lips and froze. The very air around her seemed to still as it waited, breathless, while she stared, unable to wrap her mind around what she was seeing.

She knew him.

He looked like an ancient warrior. Tall, broad-shouldered, arrestingly handsome. Dark brown hair, exotic sky blue eyes that seemed to glow faintly, a thin gold band rimming the iris. He held himself with a self-assurance that came from being completely confident in who he was and what he could do.

She knew in a single glance that this was a man who went after what he wanted with single-minded determination. He would never stand aside, never give in when he was pursuing a goal and he always, always came out the victor.

A faint hum of power emanated out from him and brushed against her skin like an electrical wave, drawing a sense of awareness. She shivered in response, not just from the sheer power lapping against her but because the breathtaking man currently staring back at her had appeared in her dreams every...single...night of her life.

Her breath caught even as something inside her seemed to shift and settle with a whispering sigh of ‘finally’. For a minute her vision altered, superimposing the man she saw in nightly dreams over the one looking down at her, and for one disorienting moment, wasn’t sure what was real or fantasy.

Blinking, the brief vision disappeared, leaving her feeling off balance-and with the realization that she was staring dumbly up at a stranger after shaking his gate like a madwoman.

Grabbing hold of herself with a hard, mental shake, she sternly reminded herself that the man her mind created in her dreams was not truly a real person, and however...exactly...the man before her resembled him, they were not the same.

Dragging in a ragged breath at the mental reminder, she took a step back and the strangers’ hands fell lightly away from where they’d been holding onto her shoulders, leaving her with an odd sense of loss that had her questioning her sanity.

Are you...all right?

Concern darkened his eyes and she raised a hand to rub a spot on her forehead that suddenly ached.

Yes-no! Sorry. My car broke down at the end of your drive and then when I was walking up here, it felt like someone was- she broke off, realizing how ridiculous it was to say someone was chasing her when it was most likely just the unfamiliar sounds of the woods pushing her imagination into overdrive.

Chasing you?

Aisley hesitating before nodding. I’m sorry. That sounds ridiculous. I think I just got spooked walking up here. I wondered if I could use your phone to call someone about my car? Mine died.

Her voice trailed off as she noticed two people standing to the sides of the man who had caught her-a dark-haired man with a stern, closed face and a graceful woman with honey brown hair caught up in a ponytail, her bright green eyes curious, but friendly.

The man in front of her glanced to his side and gave a quick jerk of his head toward the woods. Nodding silently back, the dark-haired man walked down the drive and melted into the darkness.

Raine will have a look around he said and Aisley looked back in embarrassment.

You really don’t have to! I really do think the woods just got to me.

He’ll look around just in case. We’ll want to know if there’s a predator hanging around.

Aisley glanced back at the darkness, wondering if he meant the animal or human kind.

Abruptly, the man reached out, touching the torn fabric on her shoulder and coming away with a smear of blood on his fingers.

You’re hurt he stated, his voice like warm, smooth chocolate and Aisley felt a different sort of shiver slide through her.

Twisting her head, she grimaced when she saw the shallow cuts the branches had made across her shoulder and down her arms. Must have been from some branches I ran into when I was running up here she confessed, feeling them start to sting now that her adrenaline rush was slowing. He swept the area beyond the gate with a narrow glance before taking her arm and leading her forward.

Come up to the house and we’ll get it bandaged up. You can make your call up there he ordered and she got the feeling he was used to giving them-and having them obeyed without question.

They fell into step on either side of her while walking up a curved drive and, while they were strangers, she didn’t feel any of the instinctive threat she had from the men at the gallery. From these two, she felt calmed by their presence, protected, and some of her tension eased, trusting her inner sense that she was safe.

The gate hummed as it started to close and she glanced back, giving a fleeting wonder to who was closing it before it occurred to her that the third man was still out there.

The gate’s closing. What about your friend-Raine?

He knows how to get in the woman answered dismissively before flashing a cautiously friendly smile at her, I’m Willow, by the way. Willow Bellator.

Aisley Montclair Aisley introduced herself before looking up at the tall man on her left with deep curiosity.

This is Cadrian Ethanael. You lucked out by breaking down here tonight-the cabin’s empty a lot Willow remarked casually and Aisley stumbled with surprise as her mind whirled.

Cadrian Ethanael.  

What were the odds that she’d run into the very man she was racing to find, here, right when she needed him? It seemed too much of a coincidence and yet, there was no way this days’ events could have been planned-she’d only decided to come this way on impulse.

Maybe her luck was finally changing for the better.

Unless, of course, he thought her car had ‘broken’ on purpose so she could arrange an accidental meeting with him. Willow’s comment suddenly took on a darker meaning as she remembered that the Ethanael’s were notoriously reclusive. A strange woman suddenly breaking down at the gate right by a house they didn’t visit very often was sure to raise some suspicion.

Grimacing as that thought flitted across her face, Cadrian’s eyebrow quirked up in inquiry.

Are you all right?

It was an echo of the same concern he’d expressed out by the gate and she forced a smile. Fine. I’m just...tired. I’ve been on the road all day. And yes, she answered Willow’s comment with a slight smile, it was lucky. As lucky as it can be breaking down in the middle of the night on a mountain.

We’ll get you cleaned up right away. That’ll help he reassured her and Aisley felt an almost imperceptible movement within her head, as though the barest hint of a breeze were moving sinuously through her thoughts. The feeling was so slight, she wondered if she was imagining it.

She’d experienced a similar feeling when testing her abilities with her siblings-though the feeling had been much stronger and intense-but had never experienced the odd mental touch from anyone else.

A frown marred her forehead as she searched his azure gaze, assuring herself that seconds after meeting her, he couldn’t possibly be inside her head. She’d never met anyone else other than her father and siblings who could read minds. Still, she felt strangely unsettled and automatically strengthened the mental shields her father had taught her to make.

Where from?

Astraika.

"That is a long drive," Willow sympathized with a glance at Cadrian and Aisley worried her bottom lip when she caught it. The two of them seemed friendly, but there were definite undertones to that look that reminded her to be on guard.

They mounted a set of wide stone steps leading up to a wrap-around porch and a massive wooden door. Aisley had only a brief impression of river rock and polished wood before Cadrian pushed open the door and waved the two women in before him.

They were met inside by an attractive man with dark blond hair, his brandy eyes equal parts questioning and admiring as they fell on Aisley.

Everything okay? he asked casually, leaning against the wall with his head tilted to one side in question.

Fine. Aisley’s car broke down at the end of the road and she was hurt coming up Cadrian informed him, shutting the front